“Are we done here?” I snapped at Houston. I needed to hide and never show my face again. “No. One more thing.” As he held me arrested with his stern gaze, I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to say. “If you find yourself with an itch you can’t control, I’m the one who scratches it.” He paused to let the words sink in. “The only one, Braxton. We clear on that?” No. Not even a little bit.
